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Goodness! My mom had a 1967 Falcon when I was a kid. It was her first car and she bought it used in 1972 or so. It was the epitome of cool. Silver on the outside. Red on the inside and room for my sister, myself and a cat in the back seat. I loved that car! It hated the rain, though. I remember one particularly rainy day when she left it parked at the main intersection of our small town (coincidentally not far from Orillia) with a note under a windshield wiper and the keys in the ignition. We walked home that day. Merry Christmas, Mr. McDonald.

Love the blog! Love the opinions! I hate this song. This is by far the worst Christmas Song of all time. Next to Christmas Shoes of course.

Could not agree more. Tha absolute best driving
song ever, Christmas or otherwise.

My Father thought that since we were Jewish, Christmas day would be the perfect day to travel from Montreal (where we lived at the time) to Toronto to visit our relatives (I was born in Toronto and we had lots of relatives then and visited often) as there would be very little traffic. The car was loaded up and about 7AM we hit the road, old Highway 2. We had a 1958 Chevy Biscayne 4door, 2 ugly tones of green. We headed along Highway 2 nice and quietly until we came to Napanee, where the car started to act up. It got worse and finally stopped at the side of the road. So there we were, Christmas day, no traffic but no garages open, the car smoking from under the hood. We sat there a few minutes until a farmer came up on his tractor to see what was wrong. He looked under the hood and said something like, 'head gasket'. I was 11 and had no idea what that was but my Dad knew it was expensive. The farmer drove his tractor to the front of the car, hooked it up with a rope or something, we got in the car, and he towed us to his garage on his farm. We went inside the house and were welcomed with hot chocolate, brunch and a few games of bingo. A couple of hours later, the farmer came into the kitchen with my Dad and said the car was fixed, that he changed the head gasket and we could go. He refused to take any money as it was Christmas. We thanked them and got on our way. That was the real Christmas spirit.

But the story has an added extra...I was working in the warehouse at Lincoln Electric in Montreal the summer before I went to college in 1969. A man came to the door to pick up some welding equipment. I looked at him, looked at the name on the bill and saw it was the same man who fixed our car that Christmas day. I introduced myself and we had a nice chat about life and things and I made sure I gave him a very big 'Thanks' for fixing our car. Small world, eh.

Now, how do we get people to have this same spirit all year?

Good story Norris..Merry Christmas and Best Wishes for 2012 :-)

Everyone has have to have that song stuck in their head in each holiday and this is the best of it. You may remember it very well for next year, too.

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